Contradicting Mission

Part 18

Gohan pulled his boots on slowly. The bath had helped; his muscles weren't as knotted, his cuts and bruises didn't burn, and he had managed to rid himself of the smell of blood. He was very sore, though, stiff, moving fast hurt, but he was clean, his throat was no longer dry or scratchy since he had gotten as much of a drink as he could, and healing his ribs would surely only take a week or so.

Now fully dressed--his gi was still blood-stained and ripped up, but he couldn't help that--he stood infront of the mirror and tried to compare his reflection to the one he had seen last night--had it only been a day? Most of his cuts had scabbed over, some of them were already peeling off to leave little white scars that would vanish in a week or two. He paused to thank his Saiya-jin heritage. The cut on his cheek had finally closed up enough that it wouldn't be able to tear open again, but it was pretty deep. A scar such as this could take years to heal completely. His stomach was starting to sink in, but his early days of training with Piccolo-san had taught him early to just tighten his belt.

He ran his hand through his still-wet hair, sending little droplets of water across the bathroom floor, and whipped his still-damp tail, making it wop-crack like a wet towel.

Managing a small smile at himself, he left the safety and peace of the bathroom, feeling as uplifted as he dared.

**

Getting through the halls was easier than Gohan thought it would be. Though everyone they passed stared at them, openly, Sunow knew the halls of the Underground better than most, and he navigated them to and through the most deserted halls he knew, until he reached the exit of the residential areas and to the enterance to the halls used by off-planets.

These were the same halls Gohan tachi had used when they first arrived, pitch-black, carved roughly from the rocky mountain soil, unlit and untiled, ubstructed with newly formed stalagmites. This time was far easier, however, for before they left, Sunow purchased lanterns to light the way. Following the Aeesu-jin, Gohan, Bojack and Garlic had no trouble seeing the way.

It was nearly three hours of navigating through the catacombs to reach the exit, and each minute that dragged by Gohan became all the more tired and aware of how long ago he had last eaten and slept. Walking, he was sure, was probably the worst thing he could do for his impaired ribs; twice he paused to cough, each time small flects of red dotted his hands when he tried to stifle it. But as bad as he felt, he was coping. He knew how to deal with pain.

Sunow was the one he was worried about. Though earlier the Aeesu-jin had seemed to recovered, his condition seemed to have worsened since the throng of attackers burst into his apartment. Occationally, Gohan looked up at him as he walked beside Freeza, clucthing his arm as he led the way. He looked worse than Gohan felt.

The hardest part of escaping was getting out the main door, of which entailed getting through the large, cavernious room they originally had to enter though--the giant, vertical wall along which climbed an unnumbered amount of Aeesu-jin as they went about their own business with prompt efficiancy, walking along the steeping rock face on hands and feet like lizards with null a respect for gravity.

Freeza, in the fore-front, starting head-first down the incline, slithering over the lip of the horizontal cave that ran perpendicular to the great wall as though he were made of liquid, melting over the edge. Forester, though using only one hand to aid his feet, his other arm holding fast to his sister, was swift to follow. Sunow stood at the edge looking down, then looked at his arm, newly splinted by Gohan before departure. Taking a deep breath, he followed the other Aeesu-jins downward, jaw rigid from the strain it put on his still injured body. Bojack, more confident than ever, was the next to follow, kneeling down backward at the edge, dangling his legs over the edge until he found toe-holds, then slowly started down backwards, looking over his shoulder to avoid running into or stepping on the other Aeesu-jin he passed. Garlic soon followed.

Gohan now stood at the lip of the cave alone, loath to begin down as his body continued to give into soreness and stiffness, reducing the once piercing pain of his ribs to a dull ache that spanned his entire body. He knew the stiffness was a good thing; it meant his body was beginning to heal itself, but the situation couldn't have been worse. He almost longed for the burnt-out but still potent adrenaline that had already cleansed itself from his system.

Crouching at the edge, he became painfully aware that one of his knees was swollen to the point it could hardly bend. He remembered being hit in the back of his knee in the fight with those twenty strange attackers, and once again hesitated to follow the others. However, being left behind was the last thing he wanted, and though he was sure Sunow and Forester would wait for him, he was far from the mood it took to argue with Freeza, Bojack or Garlic about making them wait. Trying to use every technique he knew of to suppress and ignore his aches and pains, he started downward.

The sharp rocks beneath his fingers seemed more wicked to him climbing down than climbing up had, and there seemed to be less foot-holds to be found, and those that were seemed less steady as he scraped at the dark, slick stone with his toes in desperation to quicken his pace to catch up with the others. He was sure he must look rediculious, clinging desperatly to the rocks while his tail stuck straight out behind him like a flag. Twice the rocks beneath his feet started to give under his weight and he nearly fell the last fifty feet downward if he hadn't suddenly caught hold of a more sturdy holding.

But make it to the bottom he did, and he couldn't remember the time he was happier to feel solid ground under his feet. Sunow tachi were waiting, and they left the giant rooms, catecombs, halls, tunnels, rock, tiles, halogen lights and Aeesu-jin behind and made their way to the exit. And to the surface.

Henning stepped over the wreakage that was once a room, ignoring the shredded bodies of his once loyal brigade and paying no heed to the smell of blood and death. Instead, his attention was taking in the remains of the room, the still intact articles of furniture, the wall computer, and the hall that hadn't been affected by the destruction. He would check out the other rooms later.

"I don't think I need to ask if this is the Aeesu-jin Sunow's house," he said to his guide--a skinny Aeesu-jin named Frig, who had no hope of being a fighter but was nonetheless helpful to the Tahch-jin. Frig nodded, slighly pale at the smell in the room.

Nudging one of the stiff corpses with his toe Henning asked, "Are we sure it was Son Gohan who did this?"

"Ah, no," Frig said, knealing beside a body and rolling it over, exposing his blank eyes and face frozen in eternal shock, "Before you and your brother hired me, I was a homicide detective, and even before I brought you here I had examined some of the bodies. See, the hole in this man's chest is nearly ten inches in diameter. There are quite a few others remarkably similar to it. Burnt right through, from one side to another; very messy. The skin--or in this fellow's case, the fur--around the blast is nearly black from the heat."

Now moving out of the room and into the hall for a moment, the Aeesu-jin returned, dragging two other corpses along behind him, "The other bodies in this room are too bady damaged by heat for detailed analysis, but these two men must have been killed by a different person." Frig circled a wound on both the bodies, both of which were the obvious and immidiate cause of death to the men--one was a still smoking burn, the other an impression of a boot in the man's skull.

"This fellow was killed by chi as well, just like the first body I showed you, but this chi is very different from the other one. As I'm sure you see, this blast didn't puncture its victim's body. Rather, it enveloped it and burned it from all sides. A very deadly attack, but if you look at the point of origin, the area where this man was originally hit, you can see the blast wasn't really very large. The nature of such an attack is almost identical to the kind of blast that seems to have taken out half the wall over there."

Henning listened with wrapped attention, arms crossed, and he comfortable seated himself on a couch that smelled of smoke and burning meat.

"At least one of the people that killed these men must have been this Son Gohan you're speaking of, or else there's someother small, extremely powerful being out there, because not only does the size and nature of these second type of chi blasts coincide with what one of smaller stature would use, we could always look at the more obvious evidence," Frig gestured at the foot indention in the other corpse's skull, "Aeesu-jin don't wear boots, and even if for some odd reason they did, those are small feet."

"I understand, this smaller person is Son Gohan; I suspected as much. So the other person is...?"

"Well, I admit I don't know. There's no other evidence of his attacks except the chi--no fist or boot prints or any other physical attacks, but using common sense I would deduct he was large, huge, if I dare venture."

Henning instantly thought of the tyrantical blue giant that tore his way through warrior Aeesu-jin as though they were nothing more than bags of sand, "I think I know who the other attacker is, as well. Thank you, I appreciate your taking the time to explain the circumstances to me."

The Aeesu-jin nodded and went back to examining bodies and scortch marks on the walls. A true prefessional, he.

Henning went on to explore the other rooms of the apartment. Though the three bedrooms prooved to capture little of his interest, he froze on entering the bathroom, eyes wide, a slow, thin smile slidding across his face. The first thing he saw was small water-splatterings on the mirrors where droplets had stuck then dried away, leaving a spudge behind. In the tub, though the water had been long-since drained out, there was a dirty ring around the edges.

A blackish-maroon ring.

The person who had last bathed had been washing away blood, but had not paused to clean away the mess he left behind. It was a sweet sight. Henning knelt by the tub, leaning over it and scratching his fingernail long the ring, scratching shavings of the scum onto his awaiting palm. Immidiatly tasting and feeling the memories of the black flakes in his hand, he involutarily exhaled. It was an incredible mixture of adrenaline and pain and surprise and anger. The blood must have been a mixture of at least six different people, all bleeding together to contribute to the tastatious concoction Henning now held.

But through the different buzzes of each contributor's hopes, dreams, preferences and vexations, Henning recognized the particular tang of Son Gohan. The boy had been bleeding. The thought made Henning smile wider.

Satisfied, he stood and pulled his computer out of his pocket. Time to send news to his stuck up brother who had refused to come along. Where his sense of fun was was beyond Henning.

Brother,

We should put the destruction of this planet on hold and make locating and capturing the aliens on this planet a main priority. I'm growing more excited about finding out who they are by the hour, and suggest putting your men as well as mine on the job. I know you haven't slept in the past two days, so please do us both a favor and go to bed. You're so disagreeable when you're cranky.

--Henning

He hit send and chuckled to himself. Joru would be very sore about his last comment, but it would be worth it.

He wandered out of the bathroom and back into the torn-up living room, sitting back down on the couch to think about the odd strangers on the planet, and the particular boy with them.

"Ready?" Sunow asked, his hand hovering over the final door-open button. On the other side of the door was the Outside, a place Sunow, Forester and Eesei had never seen.

Gohan took a breath, ignoring a coughing fit that tried to possess him. His tail writhed behind him uncontrolably. Sunow hit the button.

The door opened, and the boy winced with pleasure as real, unadultered sun light pierced through the doorway. Garlic shielded his eyes, Bojack began to grin. It was as though a great pressure had been lifted from their shoulders, and at first they couldn't bring themselves to take the final step into the outside world.

Gohan moved two feet forward into the sunlight, admiring every vast detail. The sun was just rising. It was morning. The boy wished he were back on Earth so he could fly to the top of the mountain and watch the sunrise, listen to the birds warble their songs of morning and admire the animals as they began to awaken from the nightly rest as the nocternal forest members vanished into holes and caves. This was enough, however. For now, this was enough.

Bojack rose into the air, then took off into the sunlight, letting out a wild Biraju-jin whoop. It was as though he were young again, and he spun through the air like an air-born top, arms stretched out, the sun warming his blue skin and the wind whistling through his thick red hair.

The rest soon followed, though Gohan waited supportively as Sunow and his family tried to prepare themselves for the Outside world.

"It's so bright!" Eesei said, speaking for the first time since the incident coming home from school.

Deeply encouraged by the little girl's sudden improvement, Forester and Sunow exchanged frightened but determined looks, then leapt out into the fresh air, Gohan right on their heels.

Though they all seemed to have a general direction to go in--north-east, toward the sun--they didn't fly near eachother. They lost sight of eachother as they enjoyed the feeling of having wide, forgiving space around them. Spirits were soaring, Gohan even found himself smiling, his eyes closed, as he pretended he was flying over Earth instead of Aeesu-sei, perhaps going to visit Bulma, Vegita and Trunks, or maybe just going shopping for his mother.

Off in the distance, he could feel Sunow and Forester landing. Appearantly, they felt they were far enough away from the Underground to set up camp. With a heavy sigh, he altered his direction and flew to join them.

When he reached them, he realized why they had stopped. Forester was bent over, out of breath. Sunow was sitting on the ground talking to Eesei, looking weary. They had never flown long distances before. As strong as Aeesu-jin were, they were so inexpirianced that they couldn't even maintain steady flight, and doing so had taken alot of energy.

Gohan landed among them, subconsciously wrapping his tail around his wrist to keep it out of the way.

"So are we camping here?" he asked, reaching into his pocket.

"Yeah," Forester said, "I don't think Papa can fly another mile today, he's hurt."

Gohan nodded. Of coarse the Aeesu-jin boy wouldn't admit he couldn't fly anymore, either. He pulled out his capsule case. It was bent and scuffed from all the fighting, but Gohan was grateful it had even survived the chaotic past day, and he popped it open, selecting his capsule house.

"What's that?" Forester asked, leaning over the case.

"My house," Gohan said, clicking it and throwing it to the ground. They were enveloped in a cloud of smoke as the dome-shaped complex was released.

"You carry your house in your pocket? Where did you get that!" Forester said loudly, unable to determine if he was fascinated, frightened, or jelious.

"It was a present," Gohan said, "I got it for my thirteenth birthday."

"Wow, Songo's got a big house!" Eesei cheered, and started skipping toward it, "I wanna see inside!"

"Eesei, it's not polite-" Sunow called after her.

Gohan smiled, "It's alright. I don't mind showing people around."

The little Aeesu-jin girl tried to open the door, but it fell of its hinges inward, filling the enterance way, "Waaa! I broke it!"

Gohan picked the door up, leaning it against a wall inside the house, feeling mildly annoyed as he remembered how Bojack had broken it, "It was already broken."

The children were impressed by the size of Gohan's house. They had lived in a moderatly sized apartment their entire life, and the sheer size of each room nearly frightened them, while many aspects--refrigerator, freezer, cabinets, windows and ovens--baffled them. Never before had they seen such impliments.

"What's this?" Forester asked, holding up the object in question.

"A fork. It's used to eat with," Gohan said as he knealt before his open refrigerator. He went back to digging through its interior, his tail tapping mindlessly at the ground, searching for something, anything, to eat. Unfortunatly, he had already consumed pretty much everything in the house, and all his searching turned up was a fourth-bag of flour, one egg, and a teaspoon of vanilla.

"Well, what's this?" Forester asked again, since discovering the kitchen he had been systematically having Gohan identify every tool, object, thing and doo-hickey he came across.

"A frying pan, it's used to cook things on.....will you hand it to me?"

Forester handed the skillet to the boy, who moved Eesei--sitting on the stovetop, to the floor.

"What are you going to do?" Forester asked, hovering, as he watched Gohan's every move with interest.

"I'm going to fry this egg."

"To eat it?"

"To eat it."

Senseing he was perhaps getting annoying, the Aeesu-jin boy stepped back to watch. It was rather interesting how the egg spit and sizzled when it hit the hot surface of the pan. Though science had never been one of his strong points--to be true, he usually slept through it in school--it was absolutely fascinating to watch not only the egg being cooked, but to later watch as Son Gohan actually put it on a plate and eat it. Eat it! He chewed it up and swallowed it, just like the text books said solid-eating creatures do, sitting at his kitchen table, his tail twined around the chair legs.

"Where's the egg go after you swallow it?" Eesei asked, watching the last bite of egg vanish down Gohan's throat.

The Saiya-jin boy licked stray yoke from his chin before saying, "To my stomach to be digested."

"Why?"

"Because," Gohan said, clearing his plate to the sink where he washed and dried it before putting it away, "People like me need food for energy, just like you need water. My stomach processes the food so my body can use it."

"Oh," Eesei said, "That's really wierd."

"I read about that," Forester added.

Gohan couldn't help but be amused. Having the two Aeesu-jin children with him helped get his mind off things. The egg most certainly wasn't enough to fill him, or even satisfy him, and he would be needing more to eat fairly soon if he wanted the energy needed to heal his ribs.

But he desperatly needed rest, so hopefully the egg would tide him over for now.

"Would you guys give me a couple of hours? I'm dead tired and need some sleep."

"Sure," Forester said, noting his sister yawn mightily, "I think we've all been missing sleep."

The Aeesu-jin boy carried his little sister back outside to take a nap with his Papa. Gohan made his way through the pleasanly familiar halls of his own house to his bedroom, subconsciously counting the turns it would take to get there. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow. He hadn't even bothered taking his boots off.

**

When Gohan awoke later, he found it dark outside his window. The sun had been rising when he went to bed. Had he really slept all day? His stomach seemed to be having contractions, and the sudden wave of hunger that siezed him made him want to vomit. He curled into a ball, his tail curling tightly around his knees, trying to mentally ward away the feeling of starvation. He had never really gone this long without food, or had such long intervals between meals. For the past three days, he had only been having one meal a day. It just wasn't enough to sustain him, and he didn't think he could last more than a week on such a diet.

The hollow feeling in his guts convinced him he wouldn't be getting any more sleep, so he rolled out of bed and onto his feet, suddenly realizing what a mess he was. The bath he had taken before had helped alot, but the state his gi was in--bloody, torn, sweaty, wrinkled--was inexcusable. His mother would throw a fit if she knew her son had been living in the same filthy clothes for three days straight.

The number of outfits in his capsule house was limited; he usually only went camping in it for a day and a night, making spare clothes unnecissary. However, with her 'one should be prepared for any occation' additude, Chi Chi had insisted Gohan keep a spare set of clothes packed at all times.

Gohan was grateful now, as he pulled out his change of clothes, that he had listened to her. However, standing in his boxers before a mirror, holding his clean shirt up to his chest, he knew right away that these were not the clothes ment for this situation. They were his house clothes, the ones he wore while seated safely at his desk, studying. A starched white button-up shirt and black slacks; not only were these clothes not ment for fighting, they weren't even ment for outside wear.

It was with great regret that he tore a hole in his pants for his tail. His mother would not have been pleased.

Nevertheless, he pulled them on. Later, he would change back into his orange gi. But now, if even for a couple hours, he would be clean, comfortable, and well dressed. Smoothing out a wrinkle in his new shirt he turned one way then another before his mirror, examining his appearance with a critical eye. The loose sleeves, coming down well past his wrists, covered the bruises on his arms. The horrors of the past seventy two hours didn't seem to show on his face, refreshed after sleep. In nearly every way he looked as though he were just getting ready to sit down to his daily lessons.

The look was ruined, however, by the cut on his cheek, which had healed well considering the number of times it had been torn and retorn after each fight. Gohan had no doubt, now, that there would be a very conspicuous scar. It was disheartening, for he couldn't see a great scholar bearing a mark of war. It made him look like a fighter. It just ruined the whole outfit. The tail didn't help much.

Heaving a sigh, he tried his best to brush some of the volume out of his hair, but as always order could not be maintained.

Deciding he looked as good as he could get, he collected up his gi and carried it through the house to the washing machine. He was glad Bulma installed it. He put his old clothes--pants, shirt, belt, arm bands, and undershirt--in the wash and went outside, barefoot.

Sunow was the first to awaken, just as the sun was setting. It was a breathtaking sight, especially for the Aeesu-jin. He had never seen a sunset, and he could only hold his breath in awe as slowly a purple rose from one horizon, and crimson from the other, and the more they neared eachother the brighter they got, their colors dappled with yellow and orange and pink as the dying sun shone on the clouds. The stars started to peer through the young night sky.

"Wow...," Eesei said, her eyes wide as she watched the sky. Sunow wrapped his arms around her, looking over to see that his son was also watching the heavenly spectacle, eyes as wide as Eesei's. It was a first time for all three of them.

"This actually is a pretty nice planet if you look at it from ground level," Bojack remarked. Sunow looked over his shoulder at the Biraju-jin. He hadn't known he was there.

"I didn't know the sky looked like that," the Aeese-jin said.

Bojack looked down at him, his face eerily blank.

"How long were you standing there?" Sunow asked.

"I stopped when the sky started changing. I haven't seen a sunset in a long time."

"Do the others know we're camped here?"

Bojack nodded, "We've stopped by off and on, today. We recognized the kid's house."

Sunow's attention was diverted when he saw Son Gohan exit his house, wearing a very different outfit than the gi he had on earlier. It looked very proper, and as the Aeesu-jin watched the boy walk, he seemed to see a whole different side of him. He looked more appropriate in this dress. More like the quiet, timid, polite, young man Sunow had at first taken him as. A peaceful boy of ambition and determination.

"Wow, Son Gohan," Forester greeted, "You should have seen the sky! It had probably thirty different colors! What a sight!"

The boy smiled, looking up to catch the last splashes of maroon die down to dark purple, then the black of night. He sighed, "I missed watching the sun rise, then I missed watching the sun set."

"You've seen it before?" Forester asked, searching the sky for even a small glimps more of the firey color. But the sun had fully set now, and the sky had given way to millions of crystal starts, shining brightly.

"Yeah, the sky does that on Ear- on my planet. Sometimes, when I felt really down, I would get up early and spend the entire day just watching the sky. I'd lay on my back in the grass and watch the sun climb up the sky, sometimes hiding behind clouds, then shining down and warming me all afternoon. But I think the sunsets were my favorite, too. But after the sun went down I liked to watch the stars."

Forester closed his eyes, trying to imagine what such a day could be like. Looking up at the blue expanse of the sky, the wind a fresh, clean hand caressing his cheek. It was a heaven he never knew existed until now, "Papa, I don't want to go back to the Underground. Ever."

Sunow smiled saddly and put his hand on his son's shoulder, "Don't worry. I don't think we will ever go back."

Feeling guilty for his friend's predicament, Gohan lowered his head, his tail sagging to hang limply behind him, any joy he felt at remembering Heaven on Earth vanishing like smoke. If he hadn't gotten involved with Sunow, he would never have had to leave his home, his friends and his life. Why was it, the boy wondered, that every one who became involved in his life, and he took to heart as a loved one, ended up being made miserable by him? He almost moaned when he remembered the good doctor. I wished he could be proven wrong, and longed to have a friend that wasn't destroyed physically if not mentally because of him. Perhaps someday he would find that person. Obviously not here.

Fighting the depression he had worked so hard to get out of after his father's death, he went in search of firewood.

**

Gohan sat by a now blazing fire, his legs crossed and a book in his lap; his tail twined pliantly around one leg. Sunow sat beside him, watching the flames while Eesei slept with her head on his chest. Beside him sat Forester, who occationally threw a stick or some dry brush into the blaze. On the opposite side of the flames sat Freeza and Garlic. From some unknown place, Bojack entered their circle.

The Biraju-jin threw something into the middle of the campfire.

"Oh, ew," Forester said, scooting away from it, "What is that?"

"I don't know what the hell it's called," the Biraju-jin said, poking it with his toe to position it on the fire for better cooking, "But I'm going to make it my dinner."

Gohan glanced at the thing on the fire. It really did look unappetizing, even to Gohan, who had eaten many questionables when he was starving in the wilderness during Piccolo's survival training. It seemed to be the unholy child of an armadillo and a wolly mammoth, roughly the size of a deer with two wicked tusks sticking out above its eyes and a third horn jutting from the tip of its long nose. It had stripes of fur across its scaly body, long shaggy hair hanging from its shoulders and under-belly, while its head was covered in fine fur. Its tawny skin color quickly blackened as its hair caught fire and the thing started to cook.

Horrified that the thing was for eating, Gohan turned his attention back to his book only to realize he hadn't read the page he was on, yet. Flipping back one page, then another, he couldn't remember a thing he had just read for the past half-hour. The situation at hand, Gohan guessed, just wasn't suitable for book-worms. He set his book aside and rubbed the bridge of his nose. His ribs were hurting again and under them his stomach was writhing in pain. His tail was turning itself in knots.

Garlic grimaced. Freeza stared at the fire. An uncomfortable silence spread through the camp as all of their eyes were riveted on the burning carcass, watching silently as it spat and sizzled, its outsides blackening from the heat. It stank as its fur burned off, and even afterward, when it should have started smelling like cooking meat, it smelled of festering and rot. Gohan quietly cursed his acute sense of smell, the hairs on his tail stood on end.

Poking the animal once more, Bojack decided it was done. Pulling the it out of the fire by its neck, he paused before biting into it. The smell was just as evident to him as it was to everyone else, and though he had confidence it was safe to eat, the rancid reek was hampering his hunger. Biraju-jin could easily survive on one meal a week; he was weighing the costs and wondering if skipping this meal would be better left skipped.

His sense of adventure got the better of him in a way his hunger refused to, and he tore through the tough scales off the creature, revealing an oozy pinkish-gray meat. It looked like even in death the thing was continuously pussing. Willing away agravating hesitation, and stubbornly sticking to his first inclination, Bojack took a bite.

His face skewed as though in pain. Grimicing, he forced himself to chew. The meat was too soft, watery, as though the creature had no muscle at all. Were the meat only bitter, Bojack would have tolerated it. Sour, salty, sweet, any would have been fine. But there was no taste, leaving Bojack's tounge undistracted with flavor as his mouth felt its vile texture at full attention.

He chewed and swallowed. The meat slid down his throat. Dinner was done.

"I'm going to try sneaking back into the Underground, tomarrow." Gohan announced in the silence that followed, "Maybe I can find some real food."

It was the final statement. The group dwindled down to Sunow, Forester, Eesei and Gohan as the others preferred seclution for the night. Within thirty minutes, the fire died down, and a night chill drifted across the landscape. Shivering at a sudden breeze, Gohan decided his time under the night sky was done.

"I'm going in," he said as he stood up, brushing dirt from his pants.

"'Night," Forester said.

"See you tomarrow, Son Gohan," Sunow added.

Eesei snored quietly on her father's lap.

Gohan returned to his house to find his clothes were done being washed. Gratefully, the blood stains had all been removed; the sweat, the grit. It was bright again. He examined each article, setting aside the torn ones from the only worn ones. The damage wasn't as bad as it had looked when it was covered in blood and the only noticable tears he found were the one on his pant leg and the newer on that stretched along his back. Repairable.

He had learned how to ment clothes while training with his father and Piccolo to prepare for the androids. Whenever he came home and his clothes were torn up, his mother always got very worked up and yelled at everyone for getting too rough with her 'little boy.' So, before walking in the door for the day, Gohan would get his hidden needle and thread and sew up the shreds of his gi. His mother didn't even notice.

Within an hour the tears in his orange gi could only be noticed under the most careful scrutiny.

His eyes were getting heavy just as he was putting his sewing kit away. He undressed and went to bed. Even after napping the entire day the boy was asleep the instant his head hit the pillow. He dreaming his mother had made a huge dinner, but she kept putting all the food on a shelf in the clouds and no matter how high he jumped he couldn't reach it. It was frustrating, but then again, so was life.

The morning came too quickly for Gohan's liking, and with it came hunger. More acute, if such an extreme case could exist, than last night. He felt sick with hunger. Though he hadn't eaten, he wanted to throw up. He felt like his body, wrathful at not being fed, wished to disgorge his stomach in retaliation for the pain it felt, and perhaps his other entrails along with it. He felt like he was dying. He had only been awake for half a minute, and he already felt the day was doomed to bad luck, which was rather abundant of late.

He got out of bed, dressing in his old orange gi. If he wasn't so hungry, he could have almost felt good. He was clean, he was getting into freshly washed and mended clothes, he was in his own home, and he was out of the Underground. Hunger destroyed the positive.

He opened his closet, digging out a duffel bag. He looked it over, checking it for holes, before slinging it over his shoulder. He would be needing it for later.

He made his way through the house and into the morning air.

Sunow was already awake, though his children weren't. The others were not to be seen.

"Good morning," Sunow greeted when he saw the boy, "Still going to sneak into the Underground?"

Gohan said solumnly, "If I don't, I'll probably die."

The Aeesu-jin nodded his understanding, though concern was evident on his face, "When are you going?"

The boy looked at the sky, assessing the sun that rose only hours ago. His stomach sent another sickening wave of nausia over him, "I was thinking now."

"Are you ready? Do you have any sort of plan?"

The boy nodded, "I'll sneak into the air ducts, bringing this," he patted his bag, "with me. That way I can bring food back with me."

Sunow was still concerned, "But how will you find food? It's not really abundant amoung Aeesu-jin-"

"I know. But the vents connect all the rooms of the Underground, right? I should be able to smell it."

Sunow shook his head in dismissal, "Well, good luck then. Do you want me to accompany you to the mountains?"

Smiling, Gohan declined, "I'll be alright."

"Good luck."

"Thanks."

The boy started flying.

**

Finding a way in was easier than he ever could have hoped for.

Directly on the side of the mountain--near its top, actually--was an air vent; hardly large enough for a full grown man to climb through, but accessable to someone as slight as Gohan. He searched around it, feeling almost suspitious at how fast he had found it, and how unguarded it was. If an ambush was planned, however, it was in a horrible place, for the boy could see for miles around him, and he felt no chi near by. Not looking a gift horse in the mouth, he tore the grate off its frame and wiggled his way in, wrapping his tail around his thigh to keep it out of his way.

Dragging the duffel bag was harder than he would have thought. He tried pushing it ahead of him, but it made too much noise. He tried dragging it behind him, but it was very akward in the cramped vents. He finally had to tie it onto his back, scooting commando-style on his elbows. It worked well enough.

He took a deep whiff of the air, seaching for the sent of edibles. Fate seemed to finally be smiling on him, for his senses almost immidiatly picked up something that smelled so wonderful his stomach seemed to be trying to climb up past his lungs to run ahead of him after it. He quickened his pace, trying to be as quiet as he could, while his mouth watered in anticipation, and it wasn't long until he reached his destination.

It was a kitchen, no a pantry. As Gohan forced his way through the grate blocking the vent and into the room, he was greeted merrily with aromatic foods of all shapes and sizes, lining one shelf after another. He felt as though he had reached heaven at long last. Dropping his duffel bag onto the floor, he couldn't have stopped himself if Kami-sama himself had ordered it.

He grabbed the first container of food near him, opening it to find dilectable little pastries within, filled with a tart fruit and topped with a sweet frosting. He emptied the entire container within ten minutes, leaving his face speared with red jam and his fingers sticky with frosting. Moving on to the next container, he discovered some interesting little bread pockets, stuffed with some sort of green vegetable and a thick white cheese.

Gohan sneaks back inside to find food (brings duffel bag to store food in.)

Stumbles across the Tahch-jin pantry. Starts wolfing down food.

Joru walks in--total surprise. Joru runs, Gohan slips back into the air-ducts with bag full of food.

There were few times in his life that Henning actually felt alarmed about something, but when his brother came tearing into his office, pail and yelling, he was hardpressed to be anything but surprised.

"He's here! In the kitchen, I saw him! How could he have--"

"Joru! Joru!" Henning rose from his seat, grabbing his brother by the shoulders, "Who's here?"

The other took a breath, breathing, then said more coherently, "Son Gohan. He was in the kitchen."

"What?" Henning said, his eyes lighting up, "He is?"

Joru nodded, frightened by the glee his brother portrayed in knowing they had just been infiltrated.

"Put all men on alert!" Henning barked, returning to his professional persona back on, "I want this place crawling with Aeesu-jin, put three men on monitoring each room, and remember! I want him alive!"

Joru, still startled and pacing with nervious energy, barked the orders to an Aeesu-jin guard, who ran out of the room to follow his orders.

The faster Gohan moved, the more noise it seemed to make, the size of the vent he was climbing through seemed smaller and more cramped as he dragged the large duffle bag of food behind him. He could feel his heart pounding in his stomach and the strain was painfully affecting his ribs. As he moved, he worked up dust that filled his lungs, making him want to cough. He could feel the chi's of tens, then hundreds of Aeesu-jin as they flooded the complex. The mission had turned from a simple infiltration and escape--in and out--to yet another life and death situation.

All it took was a single Aeesu-jin discovering him, hearing him bang through the vents, and they would be all over him. Though he was healing well--his ribs had probably knitted themselves by now--he was still far from his usual strength. There was no doubting, it was fact. If his position was found, he would die. There was just too many of them.

But he couldn't stay in one place. As he passed a grating that ran parallel to the cealing of a room, he saw through the thin slats that there were three Aeesu-jin in it, tearing up furniture, looking through closets, looking under cabinets. The entire complex was being systematically searched, and surely it would be only be a matter of time before they noticed and checked the air vents. Feeling overwhelmed, Gohan had to grab his head and squeeze his eyes shut, covering his ears and holding his breath and trying to, if even for just a second, make himself forget everything. Imagine himself someplace safe and warm. Earth. Home. He could almost hear his mother calling him for dinner as he romped through the tree-tops.

But he opened his eyes, and the thought fled. He was back in the freezing, filthy vents, one hand holding tightly to the strap of his duffle-bag and the other dragging the rest of himself along as he tried to escape death.

Things were feeling bleak. He didn't even really know where he was going. In the turmoil, he had lost his sense of direction and had forgotten which way would take him out, and which way would take him deeper into the Underground.

Reaching out to feel the chi around him, he felt the millions of Aeesu-jin milling around behind him, but ahead, perhaps fifty feet, there was none. He was going the right way, after all. Just a little longer and he would be out of there. And he still had the food. This was, perhaps, one of the few times that something was going to go right for him.

When he reached the end of the vent, however, it wasn't quite as good as it had seemed. The vent came to a dead-end right above a room. On the opposite side of the room as the vent he was in was a window. On the other side of the window was freedom, but getting there would be difficult, for the room was not deserted.

Inside were two Tahch-jin. They looked freakishly similar, like identical twins, though their auras were so different that Gohan was sure he would never mistake one for another. One seemed to radiate fear, hesitation but also pride. This was the Tahch-jin he met before, when he was rescuing Garlic and Freeza, the boy was certain of it. Joru Le'armont. The other radiated something almost chilling, cold, calculated, but also excited and gleeful. Almost like a child. As Gohan watched, the timid Tahch-jin wrung his hands together and whispered to the other, "But what if they don't find him? We don't even know how he got in!"

"You said he was in the kitchen, right?" the other said, "He probably just wanted something to eat. It doesn't matter, he won't escape. We'll capture him this time." He then chuckled, making Gohan shiver, "I can't wait! I can't wait to meet him in person! Look at me, brother, I'm actually giddy!"

"But Henning, brother, why do we need him alive? That boy is dangerious! It's so much extra work to capture him, when we could have him killed-"

The man named Henning looked shocked, "Just let the guards kill him? That would be so....anticlimatic! It would be like you taking your most preciousy finds and throwing it into space before you even expiriance it! No, I simply must kill him myself. I want to see him die with my own eyes or there would be no sense in looking for him in the first place. If I simply wanted him dead, we could just destroy the whole planet. No, no, I have to do it. A creature like this has to have a long, beautiful, drawn out death; a worthy end to his eventful life. Nothing else will do."

Inside the air vent, Gohan stopped breathing. He held perfectly still. He was scared.

Who was this man? The way he talked--referring to death and torture as though they were the most intricate forms of art--just seemed so very wrong. Gohan was actually a large fan of the arts, had studied art and music since he could read, and it was one of his most favored subjects. But this man, Henning, destroyed it. Perverted a beautiful thing and twisted and mutilated it until is was something sick and reviled and inhuman.

The notion was actually offending to Gohan. It was taking one of the few things he still had sanctity in and turning it into the very thing he detested. Pleasure in pain and death, torment and torture and anguish. This man, whoever he was and wherever he came from, was fast-shaping into something the boy all-together despised.

His anger started to rise.

Joru stared at his brother in horror and disbelief. He had always been hesitant when it came to supporting Henning's grisly hobbies, and at this moment he had half a mind to go directly against his siblings wishes and ordering his sentries to kill the boy on sight. Not only would it be for the Tahch-jin's best interest, but for Son Gohan's as well. A quick death at the hands of an Aeesu-jin would be merciful when compared to the one Henning had planned.

Joru could hardly endure listening to his brother kill his adult captives, he didn't think he could stand hearing the death screams of a child echoing through his space ship. Henning was known to keep his victims alive for weeks, and more than once Joru wondered how many more deaths he could listen to before he went mad. Insanity was a constant fear for him, for once he lost his ability to reason he was sure he would start to act like his brother.

"But what if he does escape?" Joru asked, desperate to change the subject, "You can't be serious about postponing our plans for your whim-"

"Destroying this planet is a whim, brother," Henning reminded, "Your whim. Can't you let me have fun, too?"

Joru became silent. He didn't like having his brother say such things. It wasn't a whim that he destroy this planet, it was an unselfish act ment to better the universe. He didn't bother saying so.

"But I have this place entirely surrounded. There's no way my prize is escaping. If you insist, I suppose I can be content with just the boy; we can destroy the planet as soon as I-"

He was interupted by a loud clattering, and both Tahch-jin turned to see the grate over the air-conditioning vent fall to the floor. From the hole it left behind, Son Gohan emerged. To Joru, he looked dangerious. To Henning, he was a marvel.

"Why me?" The boy asked, his ink-black eyes fixed on Henning. He was a good three feet shorter than the Tahch-jin, but for whatever he lacked in size, he made up for in intensity. Joru hid behind his brother.

Henning was fearless, "Because you are what I've been searching for my entire life. You're perfect."

The boy's face slackened in surprise, "You don't even know who I am."

"I know more than you think, little Saiya-jin Son Gohan."

The surprise on the boy's face seemed to melt into cold resolve, then, as though he suddenly heard something the Tahch-jin didn't, his head whipped around to look at the door. He looked hesitant, alarmed, and if Joru hadn't seen him fight on a first hand basis, he wouldn't have thought the kid was any harm at all.

Turning back to look at the Tahch-jin brothers, he said, "You're insane."

Without another word he blasted the window open, filling the room with a rain of gleaming glass. The boy flew out the broken window frame, and, carrying his bag, was gone in a flast of chi. Hardly a second later, the door flew open and six Aeesu-jin entered, the largest saying, "Sir, the complex has been thoroughly searched and we could find no trace of the boy."

Henning started chuckling, then all out laughing.

Noticing the broken window the Aeesu-jin asked, "What happened, here?"

Talking over his brother's laughter Joru said, "He was here."

"Son Gohan? Here? Do you want us to go after him?"

Joru shook his head, "He's long gone by now."

As tears rolled down his cheeks, Henning said through excited, happy gasps, "Good, good, this is great! He's perfect!"

Joru shook his head, "Henning, dear brother, you scare me sometimes."

To be continued..........